


You taste like orange juice (And I adore you)

by BadBatch (Forever_Cynical)



Series: Flash Fiction Challenge [20]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:14:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25991953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Cynical/pseuds/BadBatch
Summary: Flash ficYennefer is a chaotic fuck up, Tissaia a Professor and best friend of Yennefer's mother. No one thinks they will last.But Yennefer knows better.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Flash Fiction Challenge [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1879456
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	You taste like orange juice (And I adore you)

It feels like a bad  porno, when we first kiss when we first fall into bed. I’m in your kitchen after having finally finished on helping you put up your new wardrobe and by helping, I mean I did it all while you tried to read the IKEA instructions to me.  I’m drinking some orange juice that you’ve  freshly blended yourself. You used to be the perfect little housewife before Vilgefortz left you for a tattooed, pierced, biker chick he met outside of the church. 

You’re my Mothers best friend. You’re my university professor. You’re almost twice my age. I’m barely getting by at school. I work at a book store that you frequently visit. You’re completely and utterly out of my league yet when I turn round, my face showing an obvious orange juice mustache, laughing you bring your hands up to clean it off. Everything slows down and I truly for a moment believe that IKEA wardrobe fell on me and I died. 

You kiss me. You’re a beautiful brunette, with glasses, you’re sophisticated and smart. I’m pierced, tattooed, my hair is always somehow messy and I have what seems an endless supply of flannel but you're kissing me. My hands are up in your hair and before I know it, we’re back in your room and I’m touching you in only ways that I’ve dreamed of. You tell me I taste like orange juice and I can’t help but grin against your lips. 

The first time we kissed was also the first time we shared a bed. Afterward, you were biting your lip and swearing to yourself and I knew for me, there would be no going back. You were stuck with me. You always would be. Even when my mother found out and she threw a vase at your head, you were stuck with me and  my makeshift crazy family. You rolled your eyes every time Triss would slip up and call you Professor De Vries. You'd smirk back at Sabrina every time she would make a joke about our age difference. You didn't mind that my ex-boyfriend, Geralt would hang around with us. 

You were just so utterly perfect it was hard to believe that you would even contemplate being with me like this. 

Yennefer Vengerberg, chaotic fuck up with a love for books and telling people to fuck off. 

Nobody believed we would last. Nobody believed we would stand the test of time, believing that I was too young and that you were far too good for me. I didn’ t blame them for thinking that, there were moments when we ourselves had our doubts but you would always turn to me and say if Vilgefortz can have a tattooed, pierced, girlfriend half his age, why can’t I? My answer was always the same, normally a smirk and my hand moving up your thigh but I knew you were right. 

It didn't matter that my mother was dead against us, that she cut off your friendship when it became obvious that we weren't going to budge. We weren't going to be apart for anyone. We were happy. You said to that all of this stress, all of these fights caused by my mother or your disapproving friends would seem worth it when we come out throught the other side. 

You were always right. As I stand there now and I’m watching you walk towards me and I’m thinking of all this, our firsts, what we've been through, I know you were right. The only change I wanted there to be was instead of a girlfriend, I would be your wife. 

You’re dressed in white, a Lacey, beautifully short dress and I’m dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. At your request. When we finally kiss and say I do, you laugh, you move to my ear and you whisper that I taste like orange juice. 


End file.
